


Birthday Flower

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Episode Related, Gap Filler, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-17
Updated: 2003-11-17
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:51:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: What if Brian did something completely unexpected?  Gapfiller for 216.





	Birthday Flower

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

I hear the door of the loft open and close, but I don’t bother turning. Violin music fills the loft, and I stare at the CD in my hand. The guy is fucking brilliant, an artist, like me. Ethan Gold. The name vibrates through my body, like the music. He looked at me as if he wanted to devour me, and I could feel it, right to my toes. 

 

“Shit,” I hear his voice, “when was the loft turned into Carnegie Hall? Turn it down, I have a headache.”

 

I block out his voice and think of Ethan instead. His music, his voice, his eyes. Dark, unreadable, filled with passion. I think he’s the most passionate guy I ever met. An artist. Like me. 

 

“Justin!” he shouts before slamming the bathroom door. 

 

Sighing I get up and and turn down the volume, the music soft now, but still vibrating through my body. I know I’m silly. I hardly know the guy, and yet I’m dreaming, turning him into a little fairy tale. But why not? Why shouldn’t I. It’s been my birthday after all, so why can’t I have a little fantasy – at least in my head? A boyfriend who’s caring for me, who can see my wishes and dreams and fulfills them. Someone who understands that I want a little romance. 

 

The last beats of the CD are fading, leaving me craving for more. Yet I don’t start the CD again, instead I turn towards the bedroom and strip while going. The bathroom door is still closed, and I can hear the shower running. Familiar sounds, familiar –

 

and then I freeze in the middle of my next step

 

and my eyes widen

 

then fly to the closed bathroom door 

 

then back at the pillow

 

I blink

 

then blink again, not able to believe what my eyes are seeing.

 

The same moment the bathroom opens and he stands in the doorway, his hair wet, droplets of water running over his perfect body. 

 

I lick my lips, “Brian?”

 

“What?” he asks casually, dropping the towel before climbing into the bed. 

 

“That’s-“

 

“Close your mouth, Sunshine,” he says, his voice almost bored, “and get in.”

 

After a moment I climb in, too, smiling at his back as I do. Only then I pick up the single red rose lying on my pillow, bury my nose in it and inhale the scent. My allergies will probably go berserk, but I don’t care. 

 

“Happy birthday, Justin,” I hear him whisper. I look up and see he’s turned and his eyes are on me. 

 

“Brian,” I start, then swallow over the lump in my throat, sniffling slightly.

 

“Allergies?” he asks and he’s smiling. 

 

“Yeah,” I reply hoarsely. 

 

He nods, then slowly reaches out, takes the flower from my hand and places it on his nightstand. “You realize this was just a cheap trick to get into your pants?”

 

I laugh and feel a tear run over my cheek. “Sure.”

 

His thumb catches it before it reaches my chin. His palm is soft against my skin. “You really like violin music?” he asks.

 

Violin music? I frown. Then I remember. Ethan Gold. I shake my head, “Not really.”

 

“Good,” he says, “I’m not very much into classical music.”

 

I smile, “Me neither.” 

 

“You said the guy was good.”

 

“He was okay.”

 

“What was his name again?”

 

I arch into his hand as it finds my cock. I smile and tell him, “I already forgot.”


End file.
